


Sights Unseen: In The Line Of Duty

by aadarshinah



Series: Sights Unseen [13]
Category: Stargate - All Series, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s02e02 In the Line of Duty, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:19:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1879587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aadarshinah/pseuds/aadarshinah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing Moment's from SG1's "In The Line of Duty"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sights Unseen: In The Line Of Duty

**Author's Note:**

> A series of cannon-compliant missing moment's from Stargate: SG-1's first three seasons, with an eventual end towards Sam/Jack. Part of the [Locality](http://aadarshinah.livejournal.com/320058.html) universe.

**5 May, 1998 – Colorado Springs, Earth, Milky Way**

 

He’s about to knock again when Sam finally opens the door. Jack’s immediately worried, because he’s never seen her look anything less than completely put together, even on missions where they’ve sloughed through rain and snow and mud and they’re all bleeding from three separate wounds. Up until now, he’s entertained the notion that she has some magic power over wayward curls and wrinkled fabric – the sort of thing that could stop a cold at a hundred yards, - but that’s obviously not the case. Because-

-because now Sam looks like she’s just been hit by a truck. Or, more likely, just crawled out of bed, which is ridiculous because she knew that they were coming over. Knowing Carter as he does, that should have meant an hour of unnecessary but exacting cleaning before their arrival, and perfectly pressed casual clothes.

Instead she’s standing there in a terry cotton robe that falls to her knees but still manages to somehow be indecent (or maybe that’s just him; he’s never seen her bare foot or bare legged before, dress uniforms not withstanding). Her hair is an impressive rats-nest for its length and her eyes are bruised in a manner that suggests severe sleep depravation despite the bedhead. She seems to have no idea why he’s there.

“Daniel and Teal’c are on their way,” he says by way of greeting. “They’re picking up some food and then we’re going to have team night here. Remember? We set it up yesterday when we were loading you into Doctor Frasier’s car. Or do you want me to call them and cancel?”

Sam, wordlessly, turns and walks back into her apartment.

Jack assumes that since she left the door open movie night is still on and follows her in, taking care to close the door quietly behind him.

Her living room, for the first time in living memory (not that he has all that many memories to draw upon, having dropped her at her door once and been drafted into helping paint her guest room another) is a mess as well. A cocoon of blankets has fallen to the floor in front of the couch. Empty glasses and food containers litter the coffee table and the floor around it. There are no lights turned on, but there’s enough coming through the curtained windows that Jack can find and lamp and set it back to rights before switching it on.

Jack doesn’t know what to say, so what he _does_ say is, “I’m getting us some water.”

In the kitchen, he finds a couple of clean glasses and a lot of empty cupboards, so he pulls out his phone before heading back into the living room and calls Daniel.

“I know, I know,” he says by way of _hello_ , “sorry we’re late, but it turns out ordering Mexican take-away on _Cinco de Mayo_ is not such a great idea. Remind me to buy a calendar after the movie tonight. A big one with big red letters for holidays that might interfere with takeout buying.”

“Go ahead and get it now,” Jack tells him, “and while you’re doing that pick up some cereal or soup or something. I’m at Carter’s place and the only thing in her fridge is some expired yoghurt and a stalk of withered celery.”

Daniel whistles. “And that is why takeout menus and plastic forks are the only thing I keep in my kitchen. But sure, I’ll stop by the grocery store on the way over. If we’re lucky, it won’t be half as crowded as this restaurant. See you in an hour?”

Ending the call, he slides his phone back into his pocket and carries the water out into the living room. When he gets there, Sam is sitting on the couch, having made a half-hearted attempt to fold the blankets that had been strewn across it.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it now,” he says, sitting next to her closer than he would normally dare, “but it will get better. You’ve just got to take it one day at a time.”

Tiredly, “Janet said the goa’uld left some sort of psychic imprint on my brain. It’s not that strong. The only things that really come through are feelings, not memories, and even those are fading, but every time I close my eyes I hear her screaming.”

Jack winces at that, but wisely doesn’t follow that line of questioning, instead asking, “Her?”

“I think Jolinar was female, at least as much as it’s possible for a goa’uld to be female.”

“Well that’s something, at least.” He pauses. “It _will_ get better though. You just have to get some rest. It’ll all seem better in the morning, I promise.”

Sam makes a noise of extreme disbelief, but says nothing. Jack doesn’t entirely believe himself anyway.

They end up like they were in the shuttle, as close as they can get to stretched out side by side on the couch, holding each other. They don’t say much of anything, but in the long, quiet expanse of time between the beginning and the moment she excuses herself to get cleaned up before Daniel and Teal’c arrive, Sam does say one thing, sounding so weary she might not have been aware she said it at all:

“I guess we’re not going to get our dinner any time soon, are we?”

Jack doesn’t ask, but he’s ninety percent certain she’s not talking about the fool Daniel is supposed to be bringing, but rather the meal he never got to make her and, now, probably never will get to.


End file.
